


Stranger Danger (3)

by YukiSetsu



Series: Stranger Danger [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempted Kidnapping, Breaking and Entering, Duct Tape, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Protective Voltron Paladins, david be crazy, who let him free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiSetsu/pseuds/YukiSetsu
Summary: Things pass, times change, and life goes on. But one person from Lance's past comes back, even more hellbent on getting their hands on him, one way or another.





	Stranger Danger (3)

**Author's Note:**

> i've had writer's block for so long but then i saw [this picture](https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/165988880900/31-days-of-kink-day-2-haphazard-tape-bondage) on tumblr at 1am and couldn't sleep until i wrote it out LOL,,, hopefully i can get to my WIPs once i survive finals
> 
> please send love to the artist on their tumblr! it's a NSFW blog, though, just saying ^^;; but their art is absolutely fantastic, especially how they draw lance <3

Compared to other people, Lance didn't particularly mind study groups. It meant he could hang around his friends, surround himself in a talkative and comfortable ambiance while he tried—and failed—to focus on his studies. Unproductive as it was, he much preferred it to being cooped up alone in his small and dimly lit room.

It had been more than a couple hours since the group had all cooped up in Shiro and Keith's apartment, alternating between studying and relaxing as they lounged about the living room.

“Are you guys going to spend the night?” Shiro asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It's almost midnight, you know.”

Hunk jerked his head up, a glimmer in his eyes. “Can we? It's been so long since we've had a sleepover!”

“I don't have my things,” Pidge mumbled, flipping through another page in her textbook. Out of everyone, she'd probably made the most progress in her work, having the innate ability to tune out other people when she really wanted to focus.

“We have extra toothbrushes and stuff.” Keith piped up, closing his laptop with a sigh as he got to his feet. He definitely got no work done, since Lance caught him watching some Netflix show halfway through their session. “I'll go look for some blankets.”

The thought of a sleepover brought a grin to Lance's face, filling him with a sense of nostalgia. It really had been a while. He got to his feet as well, although his steps led him towards the door. “Well I, on the other hand, have my essentials conveniently located upstairs, so I'll be right back.” Living in the same apartment complex as Shiro and Keith had its perks, too.

“Bring some snacks if you have any,” Hunk called, his voice easily carrying across the room as Lance slipped his shoes on.

“You know I will,” Lance was careful to open the door slowly, knowing how loud the hinges creaked down the empty hallway. They seriously needed to oil it down. “I shouldn't be more than 5 minutes. Don't miss me too much.”

He didn't miss Keith shooting out a “We won't” as he shut the door, but Lance decided to let the matter drop out of the goodness of his heart. He'd get him back next time.

With the stairwell being barely a few feet away, Lance opted to take that rather than the elevator. It was only one flight of stairs. Still, he walked quickly, hating the way his steps echoed through the desolated stairwell, illuminated only by dim and flickering lights. He reached the top of the steps in no time, stepping into the hallway he practically knew by memory.

As he shuffled around his pocket for his key, Lance snuck a glance down the hallway. He lived in a relatively quiet complex, never having a need to deal with loud frat parties or barking dogs. He knew people lived there, but everyone kept to themselves, so he hardly ran into anyone. Even during the day. As peaceful as it was, it also made the place extremely creepy at night. At least in his opinion.

His hands finally closed around the familiar metal, and Lance carefully—quiet in his efforts not to make too much noise and wake his neighbors—unlocked the door and stepped in.

But the second his feet crossed the border, he felt himself pause, something in his stomach churning with sudden alarm.

Something felt... off.

Lance pondered the sensation for a moment before shaking it off, swallowing his hesitation as he closed the door behind him. It was only because it's so late at night. He really did get scared easily. He'd just get his stuff fast and make his way back downstairs. Back to his friends, back to the warm lights and loud laughter.

Yet in the instant it took for him to reach for the hallway light, something dashed forward just ahead, a dark figure that he could barely make out before it barreled straight into his front. The impact knocked the breath out of his chest, and Lance could barely let out a shout before he crashed onto the ground. Whatever ran into him didn't waste a beat, one hand quick to grab at one of his wrists and the other clamming his mouth shut.

Lance's mind struggled to process the situation, his limbs more stiff with shock and less able to react to what was going on.

 _This isn't happening,_ he thought, barely able to push back against the body on top of him. The guy was huge, almost Shiro's size. _This isn't happening._

“Don't fight too much,” the stranger grit out, voice low and rusty. “We don't wanna hurt you more than we need to.”

Lance could only blink, trying to adjust to the darkness and make out a face, a feature, _anything_. Who the hell was doing this, and why? He didn't recognize anything about this person. A delirious part of him wondered if the person had broken into the wrong apartment. His chest felt too tight, breaths huffing out in short bursts past the hand covering his mouth.

The stranger looked over his shoulder, nodding briskly. “Is the tape ready?”

When another figure drifted into his field of vision, Lance's stomach clenched at the realization that there was more than one intruder. The sound of the masking tape unrolling had his chest tightening in sudden panic, and he finally found himself able to draw a leg up and knee it into the person's back. The stranger grunted in surprise, his grip loosening for just a second. But it was enough, and Lance yanked his wrist free, using both hands to shove the body aside so that he could scramble to his feet.

He didn't chance a look back, his sights set solely on the door to his apartment, but he could hardly entertain the thought of escape before someone grabbed at the back of his hoodie, pulling back with enough force to slam him against the wall. Lance's head spun at the impact, groaning as an arm pressed roughly against his chest.

“You sure got a lot of guts, runt.” The man whispered, the irritation obvious in his voice.

Lance got a better look at the stranger this time, the other one standing just behind. Both were donned in all black, finished with a black cap that covered most of their face. The darkened room did the rest of the work, making it nearly impossible for him to make out any stand-out features.

Forget identifying them, he needed to get away.

He opened his mouth as he sucked in a breath, all intent on screaming his lungs out. Unfortunately, the intruder was already one step ahead, the arm lifting off Lance's chest before he felt a hand tighten around his throat. Any noise was cut off before it could even leave Lance's mouth, and his hands scrambled at the sudden arm obstructing his airflow.

“Don't you dare yell.”

Lance couldn't even reply, his mind too occupied with trying to get oxygen, so much so that he barely heard what the man was saying to him. Any thoughts of escape bled away, replaced only with an intense need to survive. He needed to survive before he could even get away. His panic wasn't aiding to his cause at all, and he could feel his already dim vision flickering to black before the hand around his throat suddenly disappeared. He doubled over, barely able to suck in a harsh breath before the hand pushed him upright. Lance didn't have the energy to fight back, grimacing when a piece of duct tape was crudely pressed over his mouth. His arms automatically rose to tear it off, but the pair was quick to grab his wrists and tape them together, too.

This was crazy. This shouldn't be happening. He had no idea _why_ this was happening.

Even amidst the terror flocking at his mind, Lance still forced himself to move as he blinked out the white spots dancing in his eyes, trying to at least use his legs and shoulders to defend himself. He ducked down, just barely dodging a hand that whisked so close to his eyes that he felt the air wisp at him, using his feet to propel himself upwards and shoulder the figure in front of him. He felt impact, slightly satisfied to hear the stranger groan in pain before stumbling to the side.

The triumph was short-lived, however, once Lance spotted the other figure take the former's place, easily sweeping Lance's legs out from under him and sending him to the ground once more. His back ached from the impact, head locked in override from the adrenaline. He couldn't think straight, suddenly unable to plot out what he needed to do. All he could see was darkness and the fuzzy outline of his ceiling, the sound of harsh breaths cutting through the otherwise silent apartment.

“Tie his arms a bit more and then get the legs,” one of them muttered, already moving to pin down his ankles.

“I'll kill the bastard.” The other grit out. Probably the one Lance managed to get a hit on.

“Shut up, He told us not to the injure the guy too much. Get the tape. We already wasted too much time.”

Lance tried to lift his body up again, stiffening when a hand grabbed at his face and pressed his head painfully against the ground. He stifled out a groan, hardly able to fight back when two people were physically restraining him. The sound of the tape unraveling as it tightened around his upper arms, pulling them taut against his body, sent another mass wave of fear through his body. He could hardly move, he could hardly do anything.

“Pick him up, let's get going.” One of them said, pulling the tape harshly enough that Lance could almost feel his arms losing what little circulation they had left.

When Lance felt himself getting picked off the ground, one pair of arms wrapped around his torso from behind and another arm wrapped around his legs, he fought once more to push back. Yanking his body back and forth, attempting to kick his legs, even trying to swing his bound wrists backwards over his head in an attempt to clock the guy behind him in the face. But that proved impossible, given the way his upper arms had been bound. The strangers were pretty strong too, their grips like iron in a way that prevented him from making any motion too big.

The one holding his legs made quick work of the job, taking the tape and barely managing to bind his ankles together before working on his thighs. They were already moving, heading towards the door, and Lance could feel the panic starting to suffocate him.

They were taking him somewhere, away from his friends, away from safety. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't _think._ The inability to move made it even more difficult for his mind to form a coherent thought. They were going to take him away, and he might never come back.

For the first time in a long time, Lance truly feared for his life.

But then there was a sudden noise, a knock on the door that had all three of them freezing. Lance wondered if it had been a neighbor's door, but no, the knock came again, the noise inexplicably on his door as the noise echoed through the tense silence of his apartment.

“ _Shit,”_ the one holding his legs whispered, his grip painfully tight.

“Hey, Lance? You there?” Hunk's voice called out, loud and clear even through the door. Lance's chest tightened in sudden desperation, trying to call out even past the tape muffling his voice. “It's been like... 10 minutes, and we were hearing lots of noise above, so we thought... I dunno. Anyways, we came by in case you needed help with whatever you're doing.”

“I hope you're not moving furniture, because that's what it sounded like. It's _midnight_.” Keith grumbled, barely audible.

The strangers hadn't moved from their position, fiercely whispering above Lance's head, but he didn't care. Help was so close, and he needed to do something. His door was unlocked—he knew it was—and he was suddenly glad he left it that way. He struggled to move again, ignoring the way the pair warningly tightened their grasp on his body. He figured he'd use it to his advantage, locking his knees against the man's iron hold and pushing himself backwards at full strength.

It worked, somewhat. The one holding his upper body stumbled backwards at the force, and Lance took that moment to yank his body inwards, curling up in an effort to pull away from both of them at once. The haphazard movement was too much for the pair to balance out, and Lance felt their hands slip away before he hit the ground once more, the impact enough to leave him stunned given the distance he fell.

Past the ringing in his ears, Lance heard the sound of people yelling before his door opened, light finally spilling into the dark shadows of his hallway. He squinted, shutting his eyes at the sudden brightness, unable to move even at the sudden prospect of rescue. Every part of his body ached, burning at the strain and injuries. He was sure to be littered with bruises for a while. It hurt to breathe, the tape over his mouth making it even more difficult to get a proper breath in, and his lungs stung from the inadequate oxygen.

Someone was grabbing him again, and Lance could barely pull back in panic before arms were wrapped around him, the hold gentle and fierce at the same time. Lance stiffened as he opened his eyes again, greeted only by darkness, but Hunk's scent was enough to tell him who had him. He shuddered out a breath through his nose, shutting his eyes as tears began to sting. Everything had gotten loud, both with voices and movement.

“Careful, Keith.” Lance heard Shiro grit out, voice strained.

Keith didn't speak for a long moment before he finally responded, sounding more infuriated than Lance had ever heard him. “Who the hell are you? You better talk before I break more than your nose.”

“We—we don't know anything!” One of the guy's choked out. The fierce undertone he had was gone, replaced only with pleading. “Someone just paid us to grab this guy and bring him to a warehouse.”

“I want a name,” Keith hissed, unforgiving.

There was a beat before one of them spoke up again. “David. That's all we got. No last name or anything. We swear.”

It was like someone had sucked the air out of the room, the silence so deafening Lance might have squirmed under it had he not felt like someone had physically punched him in the stomach.

David. He hadn't heard that name in so long. Not since Pidge had told him the guy had gotten a few months in jail after that stalking incident. He was out of jail now? How long had it been?

He couldn't believe it. The guy was completely insane. He truly couldn't fathom the thought that someone like him existed. After all that had happened in the past, he couldn't imagine what David would've done if he saw Lance again. He thought this was all behind him now. He'd practically forgotten it all. He'd _wanted_ to forget it all.

Lance felt Hunk shift, the movement letting light press against his closed eyes again before he felt the tape over his mouth peel off, the sensation painful and leaving the affected feeling raw. He kept his mouth shut, suddenly fearful to even make a noise even though that had been all he'd wanted to do minutes ago. Everything hurt too much.

“Lance, you need to breathe.” Hunk whispered, a hand carding in his hair. “Take a deep breath, okay?”

He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He was too afraid to do anything. Hunk didn't relent, pressing his mouth against Lance's head as he whispered reassurances. “We got you. We won't let anything happen to you. So just breathe.”

Lance forced his eyes open, catching a blurred view of Hunk's sweater as he forced himself to listen. His chest was burning for oxygen, and he finally gave in, the breath slow as it rattled in his throat. He couldn't hear anything else, just Hunk mumbling encouragement as Lance took another breath, grateful for the way it loosened his chest. The blood rushed loud in his ears, his rapid heart rate drowning out any noise as he fought to even out his breaths. It proved tough, given the way his chest never seemed to want to fully expand, jerking inwards whenever he was halfway there. But he managed, grateful for the cool air running down his throat.

He kept breathing, at least until he was calm enough for the reality of the situation to fully sink in. Jesus, he'd nearly been _kidnapped_. He shuddered then, the horror running down his spine and wracking his body in a way that Hunk tightened his grip around Lance in alarm.

“H—Hunk,” Lance whispered, his voice trembling almost painfully. “I... He's... I don't...”

Hunk tugged Lance closer, letting his face fall against Hunk's shoulder as the tears finally spilled over. He was too overwhelmed to focus on anything, his tears threatening to choke up his airway after he had just opened it back up. Hunk seemed to understand, not saying anything as he rubbed large circles against Lance's back, giving him some time to let it out. He didn't know how long they sat there for, but by the time he'd finished, Lance was completely drained. Physically and emotionally.

Hunk only moved when he heard Lance go quiet, giving him a strained smile before glancing in front. There was some movement to the side, and Lance caught the familiar green of Pidge's shirt pass by, her fingers lightly brushing against the top of his hair.

“The police should be here soon.” Pidge whispered. The sentence had Lance's mind stutter back to life, belatedly wondering what had become of the intruders. He figured they were still there in some way, but he had to see for himself. He struggled to sit up further, ignoring the way his binds pressed against him.

Hunk made a noise when Lance started to shift, gently moving back so that he had more room to maneuver. Pidge was there in an instant, crouching down next to him with a pained look on her face. Lance went still when she reached out, tentatively pulling against the tape around his wrists with a frown.

“Let's get these off. They must hurt.” She said, sparing Hunk a glance before she got up and stepped away. Before he could even wonder where she'd gone, Hunk had already occupied the space she left as he tried to pick at any loose strips, already speaking again.

“Sorry, hold on for a bit longer. We'll cut it off.”

It was only a few seconds before Pidge was back, kitchen scissors in hand. Oh, she'd gone to the kitchen. The tape cut away easily with it, and Lance felt his limbs relax at the ease in restriction, the blood rushing through his arms and legs in a forceful sensation. He leaned more heavily against Hunk's side, trying to squeeze his fists in an attempt to get the feeling back.

There was a louder commotion then, footsteps storming down the outer corridor of the apartment like a stampede was making there way towards Lance's apartment. All eyes fell on the door as a pair of police officers came to a stop in front of the doorway, wasting no time as they stepped inside and headed towards the suspects. Lance finally spotted them, both of them pinned to the ground by Shiro and Keith respectively. He was surprised Keith had managed, seeing as how the guy was nearly twice of size of him, but once he saw the stranger's battered face, his crooked nose still oozing some blood, he realized maybe it wasn't all that surprising after all.

The next hour was a blur, the officers questioning Lance and the others briefly before heading out—intruders in tow—once they heard about David to go track him down. From what they learned, the strangers had broken in through the window. David had promised them a hefty reward if they broke into someone's apartment and brought them back to the set location. Lance, specifically. But like they'd said, they didn't seem to know any other information asides from the location of the warehouse, which was a good enough start. Even after the police and suspects cleared out, leaving only a silent apartment and exhausted figures, nothing felt resolved.

Shiro was the first to move out of the bunch, heading straight towards where Lance had been situated on the couch. They'd relocated to the living room during the questioning period, and Hunk had left Lance sitting on the couch long enough to go fetch a blanket and drape it over his shoulders. And when Shiro reached out for a hug, Lance leaned into it, craving human contact from people he knew at this point. He wanted to forget the past few hours.

“I'm so sorry this happened,” Shiro said, squeezing Lance tighter against him.

Lance was too tired to respond, sniffling as he felt the others gravitate towards him as well, resulting in a group hug that lasted for much longer than he'd expected. He didn't mind—it felt like a big warm cocoon that shielded him from the chaotic mess in his head, blocking out anything that could possibly hurt him again.

“They'll catch him.” Pidge muttered from where she clung against Lance's side. “If they don't, I will. And he'll be in jail for a long time this time around. I'll make sure of it.”

“We'll all make sure of it.” Keith amended firmly.

Lance closed his eyes, relishing in the familiar scents and sensations. Afterwards, the group made quick work of escorting him back downstairs, grabbing all his toiletries and practically half his closet before they left the apartment. They all crowded around him as they walked, leaving him at the center like he was in some security barricade, but he didn't object to it. Nor did he object to the second spontaneous group hug they had in the middle of Shiro and Keith's living room.

For the first time since the incident, Lance felt safe.

* * *

 

The police contacted Lance and the others later in the week, having traced down David and apprehending him in an isolated warehouse on the outskirts of town. He was expected to get at least 5 years in jail. Lance refused to hear any more details—knowing that he was arrested had been enough for him.

Still, for a long time, Lance couldn't bring himself to enter his apartment on his own. Not that any of his friends were even willing to let him walk around alone anywhere in the first place. He spent a good half of the month sleeping over at either Shiro and Keith's apartment or at Hunk's place. No one complained.

He had nightmares for a long time, though. Visions of dark figures and suffocating hands that jolted him awake at night, sobs choking past his throat. He always had someone sleeping nearby him now, and they were quick to wake up and calm him down in no time. Although it helped, it didn't make the night terrors any less horrifying. But he was glad his friends were at least there with him.

Ever since, Hunk practically glued himself to Lance's side, following him wherever possible or at least making sure someone was with Lance most of the time. Lance didn't mind it, since he liked the comfort of having people nearby, their presence a reminder that he was safe, that he wasn't alone. Pidge visited more often, too. It wasn't as if she hardly visited at all in the past, but her presence was definitely more noticeable around Lance now.

Shiro and Keith had been the most accommodating, especially since they lived downstairs. They let Lance in whenever he had to urge to visit, his trips to their apartment so frequent that they even got him a spare key and had a separate area in the house dedicated for him to spend the night if he wanted. They didn't seem to be bothered by his constant company, at least from what he could tell. Shiro particularly spoiled him, heading out and buying Lance whatever food or thing he wanted in the rare occasion that he mentioned wanting something. It almost made him feel guilty, but Shiro assured him that it was fine, he'd get Lance what he could. And Keith was always there, watching Lance like a hawk and handing him things before he could even ask. He'd definitely gotten a bit more subdued and careful around Lance, but they still occasionally fell back into their usual bickering, and he was grateful for the sense of normalcy.

Maybe they were pampering him too much. Lance was sure they'd grow tired of it soon enough. But for now, he'd let them indulge him. And slowly, hopefully, he'd be able to put this behind him as well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you could tell i was getting really sleepy by the end given how rushed it was alskfjalkfj sorry about that >>


End file.
